Six-Guns Or Surrender (Lincoln's Lawman Book 1)

by A. M. Van Dorn

  McKenna knew she was well overdue at the livery, delaying the trip back to Pine Bluff, but she was now on a roll and wanted to see if her hunch could be further supported at the mercantile. Just after she passed through one of the double doors into the shop, through an open window looking into an alley between store and another building it was now ears that were focused on McKenna, and what they were hearing … they did not like.

  CHAPTER 34

  DALTON’S CREEK

  The whore with the fiery mane of red hair rocked back and forth over Hector Ramírez's hips. Her undone hair was a wild tornado around her head as she panted and moaned. For his part Ramírez was groaning too, sweat pouring off his body. The buck-naked pair were in a clearing just off the main road out of Dalton's Creek, the rays of the setting sun illuminating them when suddenly Ramírez was angered to hear his partner crashing through the foliage.

  “God damn it! I told you to wait your turn. You’ll get a piece of this chica before we send her back to town!”

  “Don’t forget, I get paid double!” the redhead said between her pants as Bowler burst through the shrubs. He paused for a moment to enjoy the view of the woman’s fleshy ass jiggling as she worked.

  “We got a wagon heading our way!”

  The Mexican Peace Officer tensed, “Coming or going?”

  “Going.”

  Ramírez relaxed, they had been given orders to make sure that anyone that was allowed into town was to be made to forfeit their guns as well. He couldn’t give a damn about someone on their way out, especially when he was balls deep in a soiled dove he’d paid good money for.

  Annoyance tinged his voice as he called out to Bowler, “Just see who it is and handle it! You don’t need me, amigo!”

  Bowler took one last longing look at the pussy for hire gyrating on his friend, her big boobs rocking from side to side before he slipped back into the brush to make his way to the road, licking his lips, he couldn’t wait for his turn thumping her.

  Stepping up to the side of the road, he watched the wagon draw near. When he had first seen it coming around a bend far off down the road, he had noticed some large object in its bed but hadn’t been sure what it was. Now that it was only a few yards down the road, he saw that it was an upright piano lashed in the back of a wagon that had once been a Conestoga, but its arches had apparently long ago been sawed off. He held up his hand in a gesture to stop before leveling the rifle at the driver.

  “Who are ya and state your business?”

  The old man sitting on the driver’s seat jerked on the traces until the team of two horses came to a stop. He was a small bantam of a man, but to Bowler, his squat frame looked like it was made of solid muscle. The man’s chest was like a rain barrel, and his brawny arms reminded him of tree trunks.

  “The names Captain Angus McBride, formerly of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy! And who might I be addressing?” the man’s booming voice sounded in a Scottish brogue.

  “I’m the one asking questions here, friend. Ya are a long way from them White Cliffs of Dover I’ve heard about.”

  "Retired, lad, and settled here in the West. It was my wife's dream, and I owed it to her, after all, them years I was out sailing the seven seas while the lassie was stuck home waiting for me. Now thanks to your ilk, it's all slipping away," the man said with a smile that seemed to hold no humor in it at all.

  “How so?”

  “Dalton’s taxing this town to death. If I don’t come up with the back taxes on my home, I’m going to be out on the streets of next week. I won’t even have enough to buy passage back to Scotland.”

  Bowler only shrugged and walked back along the side of the wagon taking in the sight of the well-worm looking instrument. As he turned around to walk back up to stand next to the driver’s bench, he missed the shadow darting across the road behind his back.

  “And what’s with the pee-yany?”

  “Going to Pike Crossing with it. Thinking maybe I can sell it there and come up with some money for Dalton and Crockett and they’ll hold off taking my house, lad. It’s nowhere near what I owe, but I’m hoping it will buy me some time.”

  Bowler’s eyes passed over the piano, and he just shook his head chuckling. He knew a partial payment wasn’t going to do anything to stay the hand of his employers, and he doubted he was going to get much for the piano. It was a sorry-looking instrument that had seen better days with its chipped paint and dents and dings everywhere on it.

  “Good luck selling that, Scotty. That’s a right shoddy looking pee-yany! Looks up the spout to me,” Bowler sniggered.

  “Laddie, this old girl may look like she’s gone to waste to you, but she still can play a tune. I’ll find a buyer, but I best be on my way.”

  “Suit yourself, Captain, but I say ya are wasting your time,” he said as he heard the dove screaming out the tell-tale sound of a woman who had just reached her climax. Rocking back on his feet anxious to trade places with Ramírez and get his turn, he waved the Scotsman on. The wagon began lurching down the road, and when it faded from view, Bowler began unbuttoning his shirt. It was his turn.

  When at last McBride’s wagon rounded a curve in the road and was out of sight from the checkpoint, the old seafarer brought it to a halt and waited. A few minutes later, there was the slightest sound of rustling in the woods off the side of the road and a figure emerged from the thicket. Riker took a moment to press his palms to his eyes before wiping the sweat from his brow and darted over to take a seat on the bench by the driver.

  McBride handed him a canteen he pulled from under the seat, and Riker drank liberally from it before screwing the cap back into place. He turned to the captain with a grin. “It’s a hell of a trek through some of that terrain. Dense as hell in some parts. My friend, that was a close call back there.”

  When they had left Dalton’s Creek, Riker had hidden beneath a tarp in a narrow area between the wall of the wagon behind the driver’s seat and the piano. Just before they had reached the bend in the road where the checkpoint lay, he had climbed out and made his way through the woods on a parallel course with the road while McBride waited with the wagon for him to be in place across from the sentries’ position.

  Unfortunately, it turned out that he had the ill luck of picking the side of the road that led to a small clearing where one of the sentries was engaged in debauchery with a soiled dove. Riker had been forced to backtrack, dismayed that the wagon had already been stopped before he was in position. While McBride and Bowler conversed, he made a daring flight across the road. Thankfully he had not been spotted and had been ready in case the Peace Officer discovered their ruse with the piano. Once McBride was cleared to leave, Riker made his way through the dense woods until he had caught up with the waiting old mariner.

  "That it was, son, that it was, but it's all right as rain now."

  Riker had been reasonably confident that he could have slipped out of town by backtracking the same cross-country route that he and McKenna had taken to get to town in the first place and later rendezvous with the wagon after it had left Dalton's Creek far behind, but he hadn't wanted to do that. If anything had gone wrong when the wagon was stopped, he knew the old sea captain would be in a heap of trouble. Watching from the woods, he had not been unarmed being in possession of an old two-shot derringer, ready to fire on the Peace Officers if need be. It was a far cry from a Colt, but he had confidence in his ability to take out both sentries if need be.

  Along with the piano, the weapon had also been obtained from the sea captain who had boldly hidden it from the Peace Officers when they’d taken his other arms. He had said there was no way he'd ever give it up. He'd said it was a practice by some navy men to keep a derringer in their boot should the day ever come they be trapped within a sinking hull. A single bullet blast to the brain was preferable to the agonies of drowning. Riker respected that, believing a man in the situation McBride described had the right to choose which way he died.

  “You ready to get rolling, Mars
hal?”

  “Go.” He nodded. As Riker watched the setting sun bobbing atop the summit of one of the Sierra Nevada, a gentle rocking signaled the rolling of the wagon as it got moving once more. Once darkness hit, Riker planned to walk on ahead of the wagon carrying a lantern and would only stop until he could walk no more before making camp. At the crack of dawn, they would be moving again to get to their destination as soon as possible.

  “I want to thank you again for donating the piano, Captain McBride.”

  "It's the least I could do. It was my dear wife Adelaide's piano, but I know if she were here today, she'd be more than happy to help. That wasn't a complete bullshit story; after all, I was peddling to that curly wolf back there. Dalton and Crockett aim to take the home that Addie and I built from the ground up. The home where I said my final goodbye to my sweet, sweet Addie. If this stops those four-flushers cold, then I'd give a hundred pianos, laddie!" McBride said with a smile as he handed the reins to Riker for a moment while he fished out a pipe carved of white ivory and lit the tobacco he'd packed into it before they'd left.

  "Yes, but still, it's appreciated. When we were looking for someone who had one, Crewson the blacksmith said you brought it across an ocean and a continent to get it to California and we have all but destroyed it." Riker nodded as he thought about the scene at McBride's cottage at the edge of the creek earlier. Once bringing McBride into his plan, the carpenter Newt Corley and piano player Jonas Grumbly had been summoned. Under Grumbly's supervision, who had an exceptional knowledge of the inside of the piano, Corley gutted out the entire innards above the keyboard and below it. Hammers, strings, and all had been removed. Once that had been completed, they had continued their work by attacking the hollowed-out upright with hammers provided the chipped paint and dents all over it to make it look old and worn.

  Taking a puff, the old sailor turned to Riker with a smile. “Laddie, I’ve got to say this is an ace high plan that you came up with. First-rate.”

  “Thanks but save the praise until after it’s all over. We’ve still got to get the guns and get back into Dalton’s Creek with them. A lot could still go wrong,” Riker said, hoping against hope that nothing did.

  CHAPTER 35

  PINE BLUFF

  McKenna took a look back at the barber shop that she had just emerged from. When she had arrived, she had found Red Horse hard at work putting on the finishing touches, painting the word "Shop" in big green letters on the sign that he had constructed throughout the day. Though busy, he had paused long enough to listen to what she had to say. McKenna had been happy when his answer to her proposition had been yes. They would meet in the morning to go over the details of what she was asking of him. For now, however, they would be parting company. She had learned that when he had arrived back in town, the carpentry job was still available, and as he worked in the back room of the barber's, one of the customers approached him with another job that he would begin just as soon as he finished with the sign.

  It had not escaped her notice that his eyes had taken in the change in her appearance as she was now decked on in a frilly dress and her hair made into ringlets, all augmented by the sweet smell of a fancy perfume. The taciturn man had said nothing, but in the short time she had known him, she had come to know that was his way. Besides, she was never one to go fishing for compliments.

  With the aid of Red Horse lined up, another piece was falling in to place, and she was in a buoyant mood as she walked down Pine Bluff’s main street feeling a lightness in her step. It had been a productive day on many fronts. Her poking around had indeed led to her being late getting back to the livery. This had provoked concern from Markham, which she had appreciated and anger from Butler which she had not. The foreman stood there panting as Markham had explained Butler had just returned from running about looking for her on his orders when she had failed to join them at the livery. Markham admitted he was jittery, thanks to everything that had been happening, and when she hadn’t come back, he had been fearful. McKenna apologized and explained her delay on stopping at the post office to see if there had been any word on the re-routed mail delivery.

  As McKenna drew closer to the freight operation, she thought how she had felt wrong about not being above board with Markham concerning her suspicions. Her forays to the doctor's office and the general store had solidified her belief that she had fingered at least one and possibly two of the perpetrators of the previous night's attack. She wasn't ready to share it with anyone yet because, though she was feeling confident about zeroing in on suspects in Pepper Hill, she still knew they had to have one or more confederates likely here in Pine Bluff. Someone in this very town had sabotaged the spokes on Belfry's wagon.

  Ahead of her now she could see the wagon from Sacramento bearing the medicine and other supplies had been offloaded so foreman Butler could check everything against the manifest. Seeing that he and some other men were busy doing just that, she would check in with him later to see if everything was in order. Right now, her feet were carrying her towards the home of Matt Markham to take him up on an invitation for dinner that night. While she was sure he would have a wonderful meal on tap, she was thinking about what lay after dessert.

  McKenna had, of course, been sorry to learn that the man was a widower. However, now knowing that she could acknowledge an interest in him without the attachment of guilt had a certain appeal to her. If during the dinner she sensed that the attraction was mutual, which she felt confident it was given the subtle clues and hints she picked up during the long ride to and back from Pepper Hill, she would have no problem making a move. Save for the brief respites back in Santa Barbara, she and her brother led a nomadic life and along the way the order of the day had always been short term lovers. Their lifestyle allowed for nothing more as their work was essential to them, as was honoring the faith Abraham Lincoln had placed in them. Both had accepted long ago that setting down wasn't in the cards for either of the twins.

  That had never stopped their step-mother Abbie Maria from hoping that the two would plant down roots, preferably back in Southern California. A highly devout woman, McKenna knew that Abbie Maria would be agape at the notion she might sleep with Red Horse one night and Matt Markham the next, but it was a classic case of what you don’t know won’t hurt you. So, whenever she was back home, McKenna would relate their adventures to Abbie Maria and sometimes Pappy Jacque diplomatically leaving out the tales of her trysts, and Nash would do the same.

  Dinner had indeed proved pleasing at Markham's quaint little cottage that was tucked away at the end of one of the side streets, bracketed between two stately pine trees. As the two had dined, they had done their best to steer clear of discussion relating to the mysterious campaign of sabotage. This was to be an evening of relaxation and enjoyment between a man and a woman and neither of them welcomed the specter of that dark cloud over them. That had suited McKenna just fine as for now she continued to hold her suspicions close to her vest.

  Matt had served fresh fish that he said had been caught in Dalton's Creek that flowed the many miles from its namesake past the town. That naturally had made her think of Nash again, hoping that he was okay, but she knew that she would see him again soon, perhaps as early as tomorrow afternoon. With any luck, if she could get the shipment to Pepper Hill safely, she would pull the string that unraveled the whole plot against the Cape Girardeau Mine. If she did, then she would be able to beat a trail back to Dalton's Creek post haste.

  Without letting on that she was feeling sure that she was on the verge of ending the plot against the mine, over dessert she laid the groundwork for her expected departure saying she hoped to rejoin her partner soon. When they had returned from Pepper Hill and gone their separate ways she had spied the much-delayed arrival of the mail wagon, apparently having found its way around the menacing forest fire. Before they left for the mine in the morning, she would stop by and pick up their expected governmental pay.

  Foregoing the post office, she had visited the teleg
raph office to send several wires hoping to learn more about this Francis Drew. She had a handful of friends and a couple of lovers as well amidst the Pinkerton National Detective Agency, and she had faith one of them might turn up something interesting if there was anything to be found on the suspect. McKenna hadn't left empty-handed though, as a telegram had been waiting from her and Riker from the Department of War. The prior day she had planned to contact them to see if any matters required their attention, but it seemed while she was away in Pepper Hill they had preemptively telegraphed their next assignment. It was not in California but the southwestern part of the Nevada Territory signaling they would have a long ride ahead of them when they left the Sierra Nevada.

  When she had left the telegraph office, she had bumped into Molly Jane and the two women had chatted. Things were looking better for Sam Belfry, and his wife was there keeping vigil by his bedside. By and by she had mentioned she was going to check into the local hotel, but Molly had insisted she make use of a spare room in their home. The doctor's wife hadn't needed to twist McKenna's arm as she welcomed the idea of having a little female company for a change. She loved her brother dearly and there was little the siblings couldn't talk about, but still, sometimes it was merely welcome to have another woman to be able to engage in straight up girl talk.

  McKenna had enjoyed getting to know the doctor's wife and trading stories with her including the nurse's wild tale about the oriental woman and her brother commandeering the train they were on to head off a deadly stampede. Later, when she had been left alone, Molly had graciously allowed her to use her iron on the dress she kept amongst her clothing. It never traveled well, but she wished to be looking her best when she dined with Matt. Following a nice bath, Molly Jane had returned with a bottle of perfume and helped her do up her hair. After that, she had slipped into the newly pressed dress, and that had been when she'd set out cheerfully down the main street, stopping off to see Red Horse at the barbershop.